


xvi. the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

by tempestaurora



Series: the kids aren't alright [whumptober 2020] [16]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe: Canon Divergence, Character Dies and Comes Back to Life, Gen, Hostage Situation, Whump, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27044839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempestaurora/pseuds/tempestaurora
Summary: What if Cha Cha and Hazel shot Klaus while he was their hostage? And what if Klaus did not immediately come back to life?
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Eudora Patch, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, The Hargreeves Family
Series: the kids aren't alright [whumptober 2020] [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930186
Comments: 40
Kudos: 384





	xvi. the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KittenAnarchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenAnarchy/gifts), [sionnachsSkulk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sionnachsSkulk/gifts), [StoryReader12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryReader12/gifts), [TheMutantHonk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMutantHonk/gifts).



> Prompt: Shoot The Hostage
> 
> firstly, this fic is gifted to every person who requested klaus getting shot for today's fic, which was the majority of the fic requests from yesterday. you guys just really like hurting klaus huh. you say you love him and then you tell me to kill him for whump purposes
> 
> secondly, i'm also intrigued by the idea of klaus getting shot by cha cha and immediately coming back to life. and then getting shot again. and then coming back to life. until he's got like 10 rounds in his body and he's still totally fine and cha cha and hazel are losing their absolute shit
> 
> thirdly, this is my 200th fic! yeah. 200 fics on ao3. that's a lot. to be precise, that's 1,312,410 words before today. yeah. happy 200th fic to me.

By the time Eudora found the right motel room, Diego’s brother Klaus was already dead. There was a dark hole in the centre of his forehead, dripping thick red blood onto the garish carpet, and Eudora tried not to think about how she would tell Diego. She tried not to think about anything at all other than the killer, who must still be nearby.

*

When Diego arrived at the motel, Patch was still pacing the hallway. There were distant sirens echoing in the streets – likely the back-up she’d called for – and there was a tense, distracted expression on her face.

Even after a decade, Diego still knew all her expressions.

“Hey!” he called, jogging over. Patch’s head shot up, her eyes flashing wide.

“Diego,” she said. He slowed down to a stop in front of her. She’d called him at the gym just after he and Luther had put Number Five to bed, all drunk and tired and obsessed with the mannequin he’d been carrying around. When he’d told her that morning that his brother was missing, he’d been referring to Five. And yet her phone call had implied _another_ missing brother, and that could only be one person:

“Where’s Klaus?”

Patch glanced behind her briefly, before sticking out a hand to grab his bicep when he tried to pass her. “Diego,” she said. “I need to talk to you first.”

“What? Did you find him or not?”

“I did,” Patch said. “I found him. His killers were gone—”

“As in _two?_ ”

“I think so; there’s signs in the room that point to two people staying there—”

“Wait, _killers?_ ”

They both froze, staring at each other’s open gazes. Then Diego’s face crumpled.

“No,” he said. “ _No._ Let me past—Patch, let me—”

She stepped aside, hand slipping from his arm, and he passed her, heading into the motel room where Klaus had been kept for God knows how long. He stopped in the doorway, peering into the darkness of the room, the blood splatter and grime. Then he saw Klaus, tied to a chair, his head slung forward.

He exhaled some sound of grief and rushed to his side, only to find Patch’s hands on him again.

“You can’t touch him.”

“He’s my _brother—_ ”

“He’s a crime scene—”

“Patch!”

“Diego!” She knelt beside him. He was on his knees, his hands so close to the bindings around his right wrist. His little brother was dead—his eyes were shut and there was blood down his stomach, chest, thighs. It dripped from the hole in his head. _The hole in his head._

“I’m sorry, Diego,” she whispered, but her hands didn’t loosen around his arms. She moved her hands to his, holding him from behind, and kept him close, and shaking, and warm. “We’re going to find who did this,” she swore. “But you can’t touch him right now—”

“But—”

“Diego.”

Diego choked out a sob and leant backwards into her hold. Klaus continued on, dead, in front of him. “H-h-he was alone,” Diego told her; it came out like a whine. “I let him die alone—”

“You didn’t do this,” Patch said in his ear. “You did _not_ do this—”

“I didn’t even realise he was gone.” Pain swam through his stomach, coiling tight around his organs and squeezing. He was something ripped open, something wrecked on the inside. His baby brother. Diego had spent thirty years not protecting him enough, not protecting him _right_. He’d let Dad do all sorts of horrible things to Klaus in service of the Academy, of the world, and he’d let Klaus fall into deep black depths of despair, into drugs and dark streets – and then he’d let him die in a goddamn motel room.

“I’m gonna kill them,” he said. Patch froze behind him. “I’m gonna rip their goddamn throats out—”

“Diego—”

“I know who did this.”

“You do?”

“They attacked the Academy last night.” Diego stood and Patch had no choice but to follow. He turned to face her and Patch’s arms fell from around him; the protection they offered vanishing in the light of his coldness. “Highly trained, brutal—we don’t know what they were looking for, but I guess when I think about it, I haven’t seen Klaus since.”

“Did you get a look at them?”

“They wore dark suits. One man, one woman. Cartoon animal head masks; couldn’t get a look at their faces. They must’ve taken him thinking he knew something—”

“About what?”

Diego looked out the window. The red patrol lights flashing, the sirens blaring from the parking lot below. The police had arrived. They’d take photos of Klaus’ body, of his death, and they’d place them into a folder to exist for the rest of time. _Klaus Hargreeves, 29, deceased._ It’d make the news by morning, surely – some blabbermouth in the NYPD announcing the second Umbrella Academy death, third vanished student total. Klaus would be a ghost – maybe already was one – but as he was the only person who could ever _see_ the ghosts, he’d be invisible for the rest of time.

Just like he was invisible in life.

Diego shook his head. “I don’t know. Klaus didn’t know about anything the rest of us were doing. If they wanted information, they took the wrong fucking sibling.”

He took one last look at his brother before marching back out into the hall, Eudora on his heels.

“I’m gonna find them, Patch. And when I do, I’m gonna kill them.”

Patch levelled him with a look he was familiar with. The _don’t get into trouble while my back is turned_ kind of look she’d give him both when he planned to do something stupid and when she left him alone to cook dinner. All she said was, “Perhaps don’t tell an officer of the law about your intent to murder,” and he choked out a laugh that sounded far too similar to a sob.

Diego said, “You’ve never arrested me before.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Diego.”

And then he was gone, and Patch was left with the incoming officers and his brother’s dead body.

*

The thing about the apocalypse was that it was always coming, even after Klaus had been killed. No, even after _Five_ had _gotten_ Klaus killed. He couldn’t let himself forget that, that _he_ had led the Commission agents to 2019 – that their killing Klaus was as good as Five doing it himself.

Five had a hangover well into the afternoon and he deserved it. He deserved it because the world was ending and he’d only just told his siblings about it, and his silence on the matter got Klaus _killed._

His fucking brother.

One fifth of the people he travelled back in time to save.

The living members of The Umbrella Academy sat in the living room, still a little bit broken up from the attack, as he told them about the end of the world; about the Commission, the Handler, the things he did and what they needed to do now. The time for working alone or withholding information had passed. It had killed Klaus. They needed to figure this out and figure it out _now._

Either they were all in this together, Vanya included, or the world would be a ball of fire within four days.

But it would still be wrong with Klaus dead. It wouldn’t be complete.

Maybe he could steal a briefcase and go back in time, repeat the past two days but do it right – skip the drinking and spiralling and _be there_ for the attack on their home. Keep Klaus from getting kidnapped, keep him from getting killed.

A fresh start. A third chance at the end of the world—all he needed was a briefcase.

*

Eudora watched Klaus Hargreeves’ face vanish behind the black fabric of the body bag. She’d call Diego soon; ask him to come down to the coroner’s office, see his brother. Maybe he’d bring the rest of his siblings, the ones she never met despite a decade in Diego’s chaotic presence. Maybe they could answer a few questions, too, like who would be attacking the Academy; if they knew anything about the arson on that prosthetics company, or the shoot-out at Griddy’s, or even if they knew a way to stop Diego from killing Klaus’ killers and turn them over to the police instead.

Though, they were a group of dysfunctional superheroes – she figured they’d _all_ be on board for murder.

*

Vanya stared at Klaus’ body, laid out on the table.

Beside her, Five was fidgeting and Allison was crying; Luther was stoically silent and Diego had been swearing death upon his killers since they’d piled into the car to come here. Across from them was the medical examiner and Detective Patch, who had greeted Diego with a hug, rather than a handshake.

“Cause of death,” the examiner said, “would’ve been the gunshot wound to the head – but it’s clear that he went through a lot of trauma beforehand. Three fingernails are missing, there’s several lacerations on the chest and legs, bruising on most areas of the body. He was found only in the bath towel, no other clothes on the premises—”

“He said he was going to take a bath,” Allison said suddenly, before coughing up another sob.

“There are a few injuries older than a day, but if Mr Hargreeves _was_ taken during the attack on your home,” Patch said, “then they’re likely from other instances. No one at the motel reported hearing a gunshot, or any noises of distress—”

“So he was alone,” Luther interrupted. “We left him to die alone.”

“Not necessarily,” Vanya replied, eyes still on Klaus’ frozen face. “Twenty-four hours is a long time—”

“Yes, _thank you,_ Vanya,” Diego spat.

“I _mean,_ he was probably sober by the end.” The room was quiet for a moment.

Patch asked, “What does that mean?”

“It means he would’ve seen ghosts,” Vanya replied. It was a logical assumption – Klaus drank and used to avoid the ghosts. He always had.

“Oh, great,” Diego huffed, crossing his arms. “Klaus died with the one thing he was terrified of: ghosts.”

“ _No,_ ” Vanya sighed. “Would you just listen? For once? If he was sober, maybe Ben was there.”

They all turned to stare at her.

“Why would you say that?” Luther asked, hurt.

“Because he always said he _could_ see Ben, and everyone just wrote him off as attention seeking. But he _saw ghosts!_ That was his power! And if he could see ghosts, wouldn’t the first one to appear be Ben?”

“It’s a nice thought, Vanya,” Allison said softly, in a voice that meant she didn’t believe her. But Vanya did. Vanya believed Ben was with Klaus at the end, and that’s what mattered.

*

The road to the apocalypse had already taken Klaus, and so Luther decided he would not stop at anything until the world was safe again.

*

The road to the apocalypse had already taken Klaus, and so Allison decided that it was a lost cause; she would go home and spend her final days with her daughter. Besides, she couldn’t rumour the end of the world away.

*

Allison was heading for the airport when she got the call.

*

Five was plotting his way to stealing a briefcase and starting this week again when Vanya found him.

*

Luther and Diego were arguing about nothing at all when Patch phoned.

*

God was a rationally ambiguous little girl and She did not like Klaus so much.

Klaus had died before. He’d overdosed and been stabbed and once fell from a three-storey window. Never before had God deemed him worthy of visiting.

She said, “You’ve got to stop doing this.”

He replied, “Hey, this one wasn’t my fault.”

God tilted Her head at him. “One of these days, it’ll be for good, you know.”

“But not today,” Klaus replied.

“No. Not today.”

*

He woke up in the dark.

Klaus had woken up in stranger places.

He felt around; there were walls, a ceiling – everything was closed in, tight. Had they buried him already? Usually his death-to-life turnaround was fast enough that no one got around to burying him; not even close enough to alerting the family and letting them pick out coffins.

“Hello?” he called. His voice echoed. The walls were cold, like metal, and he licked it experimentally— _yes,_ it had that metallic tang. Who buried a guy in a metal coffin? Probably no one, so maybe he wasn’t as far along as he thought.

“Hello! I’m in here! I’m alive! Can someone get me out?”

He was in the dark for a while.

*

Klaus woke up in the dark, again.

He’d fallen asleep waiting. The air was getting a little thin – must’ve been in there for a while. He banged his hands on the walls, yelled and yelled again until his throat was hoarse. And then—

Violent light.

There was a loud sound, and a light above him; shocked faces, blinking dancing colours prancing around before his eyes.

“Oh, hey,” he said, and sat up. He’d been in a metal drawer – the police must’ve found his body. He checked his chest and was relieved to find no incision marks; probably wasn’t dead for long.

Klaus glanced over his shoulder. One man was unconscious on the floor, and another stared at him, with wide, terrified eyes.

“Not dead,” Klaus said. “Would you mind getting me some clothes?”

*

Eudora Patch stared at the very-much-alive Klaus Hargreeves, kicking his legs off the side of a table where he sat in a clean pair of scrubs. There was no gunshot wound in his forehead. His three missing fingernails were still gone. He was very, very not dead.

“Holy shit,” she said, and Klaus flashed an impish grin.

*

“Holy shit,” Diego said, not an hour later, bursting into the very same room, his siblings on his heels.

“About time you got here,” Klaus replied, jumping off the table just in time to be yanked into a tight hug. “Do you know how many ghosts linger around coroner’s offices?”

Diego pulled back, clasping Klaus’ face. He was dead – he had been _dead._ And yet there was no bullet hole, no death streaking down his face.

“It’s lots,” Klaus answered. “Like, _loads._ ”

Allison pushed Diego out the way to get her own hug in, and as Luther followed afterwards, Klaus said, “Wow, you guys didn’t like me this much before I died – should I die more often to get you to like me more?”

“No,” Five said, flat. His entire expression said that he didn’t give a shit whether Klaus was breathing or not, but Diego had seen his hands shake in the car ride over. They were hidden now in his pockets. “No more dying. Now come on, we have a world to save.”

*

Klaus looked over his shoulder, to where Ben was watching with a tilted head.

“You think you should tell them that you’re kinda immortal?”

Klaus scoffed. “They’ll figure it out.” His siblings blinked at him, and he grinned back. “Hey, can Hazel and Cha Cha even be charged for murder if I came back to life?”

And that opened a whole other bucket full of worms. Ben rolled his eyes and the alive Umbrella Academy siblings started asking question, Detective Patch possibly loudest of all, but Klaus, in true Klaus fashion, didn’t answer a single question until he had a cigarette in one hand, and a donut in the other.

_Ah, it’s good to be alive._

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not a very big fan of this fic but thank fuck its done i was incredibly uninspired to write throughout lmao
> 
> but anyway it is DONE
> 
> thank u for reading, talk to me in the comments pls!!


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